


Happiest Place on Earth

by HopefulNebula



Category: Lock In - John Scalzi
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Disney World & Disneyland, Family, Gen, POV First Person, Past Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/pseuds/HopefulNebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris's first and only time using an Integrator was at Disney World. In retrospect, this may not have been the greatest idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiest Place on Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuantumButterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuantumButterfly/gifts).



> Thanks to seekingferret for the beta!

The first thing I noticed about the Integrator's body was the vision. I knew it would be different from my threep - humans don't come with night vision or zoom - but it was just so _weird_ to be seeing from physical eyes outside of my room at home.

I tested the eyes, moving them back and forth, and blinked just because I had chosen to. That was something I'd have to get used to.

"You good, kiddo?" Dad asked. I nodded. "Remember what we talked about. The Integrator's body will take care of a lot of things, so just relax and focus on doing what you want to do."

"OK," I told him. That was what I wanted to say, but it wasn't my voice. I lifted one hand and moved it around a bit. It wasn't very different from how I moved in my threep. That was good. I poked the Integrator's other arm. "Squishy," I said, and Mom and Dad both laughed.

"Do you want to try standing up now?" Mom asked, and I nodded.

I stood up like normal, and wobbled a bit. "Whoa, Chris," Dad said. "Get up that fast and you'll make yourself dizzy. Save it for when you're actually on the rides."

I stood still for a moment. "That would have been nice to know ten seconds ago," I told him.

"Sorry," he said. "That's not the kind of thing you think about when you're in the same body all day."

Maybe he had a point there.

After a few more seconds, the dizziness passed and I felt safe moving around some more. I was higher up than I was used to, almost shoulder height with my dad. The hotel room was exactly the same as it had been before I zapped into the Integrator, but now when I looked around I could see my threep in the charging station in the corner.

I took a couple steps forward, slowly, until my brain got the hang of moving this body around. It was easier once I stopped thinking too much about what I was doing, and soon enough we were ready to go.

This was going to be fun, even before we got on any rides.

* * *

My optimism lasted until about five seconds after we left the hotel lobby.

"Holy hell," I said. "How do you people deal with this?"

" _Language_ , Chris," Mom hissed, not quietly enough to prevent people from staring.

"Deal with what?" my dad asked.

"It's _sticky_. If this is what sweating feels like, it sucks."

"It's just what the rest of us have to deal with," Mom said. Dad smiled like he was trying not to laugh.

"It's like two hundred percent humidity out here," I added. Not that I could tell exactly what it was without my threep, but I felt like that was a safe guess. And that's when Dad did laugh.

* * *

We didn't have to wait in line to get in, which was good because four people had asked us for autographs while we waited for the monorail and I was hoping that wouldn't be happening all day. I may not have been in my usual threep, and things had gotten a little easier for me since I outgrew the threep I'd used for meeting the Pope, but Dad was still recognizable, and it was pretty much impossible for him to blend in with a crowd.

One last stop, to rent a temp-phone for the day in case we got separated, and we were good to go.

"What first, Chris?" Mom asked. "I haven't been here since I was your age, so a lot's changed, but they still have the classics."

I looked at the map screen. This place was huge. I filtered out the kiddie rides. Still too many to choose. "Take out the ones that don't move," Dad said. "We have the rest of the week for those, but we've only hired your Integrator for today."

While I was at it, I selected indoor rides. That list was easier to manage, though I had to laugh at the fact that they thought "It's A Small World" would appeal to teens and adults.

"I think-" I said, scrolling through the list and making my choice. "I think Space Mountain looks like fun."

Dad smiled - he'd been talking that ride up since we'd started planning the trip - and scanned our pass. "And we have twenty minutes to get there. Good timing, Chris."

"Is there another monorail that can take us there?" I asked. "It's really freakin' hot."

"Language!" Mom hissed, again. Dad was too busy cackling with laughter to scold me.

* * *

While our train climbed through the tunnel, I could see Dad's point about wanting to do this in the flesh. That lasted until we crested the hill and started really moving.

It would have been a lot more fun if I'd been in a body I knew, but instead, there I was, hurtling through a dark room with flashing lights all around me and my parents screaming in delight behind me. If I'd had night vision, I could at least have had an idea of my surroundings, which would have helped. If I'd been able to turn down my senses a tiny bit and focus on the ride, that would also have helped. But this body couldn't even tell which way was up, and this was supposed to be _fun?_

I must have looked the way I felt, because as soon as the ride stopped and Dad could get a good look at me, he asked "are you all right, Chris?"

I kind of stumbled out of the car, still trying to get a sense of which way was up. I didn't bother pretending to be okay. Before I could decide what to say, though, I realized I recognized one of the things the Integrator was feeling. Normally this was something that got taken care of automatically.

"I gotta go to the bathroom," I said, finally letting go of the railing.

I just hoped that was one of the things the Integrator's body would do instinctively.

* * *

Well, that was awkward.

* * *

Mom picked the next ride, and of course she'd have had to pick one all the way at the other end of the park.

"It's not as far as you think," she said. "They arrange things so they seem farther away than they actually are."

"Tell that to my feet," I replied.

"We have a whole week to be efficient," Dad said. "But you can't take a threep on the water rides. And trust me: you want to do the big things first and then wander around to do the rest. Otherwise you spend the whole time in one area and never get to the rest of the park."

Fair enough, I supposed. But it didn't stop my feet from hurting.

That was the weirdest thing about this, though: they weren't my feet. _My_ feet were nice and un-sweaty in Virginia. Even if I were completely sense-forward in my threep, the threep's feet would still be mine. 

I tried to think of a way to phrase this in a way that wouldn't get me yelled at for whining, and decided to just stick to whining about the heat.

* * *

I had to admit, Splash Mountain was pretty cool. Not at all like the roller coaster. It was weird to feel water outside of a sponge bath, but it was a _good_ weird. I was still sticky from the heat and humidity, but at least it was a cooler sticky than it had been.

"What do you want for lunch, Chris?" Dad asked.

"I don't know, what kind of food do I like?" I replied.

I was kind of surprised that neither of my parents yelled at me for that. They didn't say anything for a second, and it was Mom who answered my question.

"You've never had a hot dog before. You're not supposed to give them to little kids. And that's something you should experience while you can."

"It won't be as good as a proper New York hot dog," Dad added, "but I bet you'll like it."

I nodded. All food was the same to me, anyway. No matter what, it'd be new.

* * *

Taste was interesting. I could do with more of that in my life. It's not like I had anything to compare it to, but I kind of wanted to taste more things and find out what they were like.

Except then I swallowed too much in one bite.

If I had thought the feeling of food going through my throat was weird, the feeling of too much food going down my throat was awful. My eyes opened wide and started to tear up, and all I could focus on was the relish and mustard and mystery beef parts not going into my stomach fast enough.

Mom noticed it first. "Can you breathe?" she asked. I nodded. "Good. Breathe deeply. In and out."

I don't know if the connection faded a bit, or if the Integrator had to step in a little to keep everything moving along, but the next thing I knew, I was okay again. Coughing was weird and it kind of hurt, but I knew I'd be fine.

"I want to go back to my threep now," I said.

"Chris, are you sure?" Dad asked. "It's just for the one day, and--"

"The point of being here is to enjoy ourselves, right? I think I'd be having more fun as myself."

"Marcus, Chris _has_ done the things we'd decided on using an Integrator for."

"Yeah," I said. If Mom was on my side then Dad wouldn't need too much convincing. "Look, my feet hate me right now, I'm covered in sweat, at some point in the near future I'm going to throw up on one of these rides, and my lunch just tried to kill me. Yeah, I want to go back to my threep. If you had an easy way out of things like that, would you take it?"

"Your lunch did not just... all right," Dad said. "I bet your Integrator would enjoy having the rest of the day off."

* * *

The rest of the day? That was just about perfect.


End file.
